Chapter 19 #2
“So,” I say, watching her like I have no self-preservation left. “I shared my fantasy. Your turn.”
She pauses at the island, fingers trailing along the granite. “That’s not happening.”
“Fair’s fair, Claire.”
“Yours was…” She exhales, and the sound drags over my skin. “Very specific. And graphic. And now permanently burned into my brain, so thanks for that.”
“You’re welcome.” I let my gaze move over her slowly enough that she feels it.
After a long moment, she says, “Ah, fuck it. Why not, right?”
“Hell yeah.” I’m grinning like a damn fool.
“I keep imagining myself…” She stops, then gives a small, embarrassed shake of her head. “No. Forget it.”
“Not a chance.” My voice drops. “Finish the sentence.”
She is stunning when she’s all shy. Cheeks flushed, eyes bright, and her teeth pushing down into her lower lip. For a second, I think she’ll retreat, but then she lifts her chin.
“Dancing for you,” she says. “Seeing how long you’d last before that composure you’re clinging to finally breaks.”
Every nerve in my body fires at once, my cock throbbing, and I know: one touch, and I’ll detonate.
The cabin goes quiet around the beat of my pulse.
“Well, no, I didn’t mean… It was just a thought.” She waves one hand, already backing away from the thing she just set loose between us. “Forget I said—”
I’m already moving. Remote from the coffee table, phone connected to the speaker, and one quick scroll until I find the right track, a dark, grinding beat threaded with country grit and a deep male vocal that rolls through the cabin.
The bass hits the floorboards, the fire snaps behind her, and Claire stands frozen in the middle of the room, realizing exactly what I’m doing.
I hurl myself down into the center of the couch, spread my thighs, rest my arms along the back, and settle in like a man prepared to be ruined. My cock is like stone, my blood running hot, and somehow I keep my grin easy because she insisted she’d break my composure.
She can work for it. I hold her gaze, letting the music fill the space between us. “Show me, sunshine.”
Her lips part.
I tilt my head. “Unless you only wanted to be brave when I wasn’t watching.”
Her expression changes instantly, her chin rising, and she takes a step toward me, the flames casting her silhouette in gold, and then she turns her back to me.
For a second, she’s still. Just her shoulders and the curve of her spine visible in the firelight, the robe hanging from her frame. Then the beat drops and she moves.
Slow. Shy, almost. Her hips sway, finding the rhythm, her shoulders rolling with a tentative grace that tells me she’s testing herself as much as she’s testing me. One hand trails up her thigh, gathering the robe’s hem, lifting it halfway, revealing more bare skin, then she drops it.
She twists around, faces me, and whatever shyness existed there has burned away, replaced by a fire in her eyes that I’ve never seen.
She moves closer, hips rolling, the robe shifting with each step, falling off one shoulder, exposing the line of her neck and the pale curve beneath. She pushes it back, lets it fall again.
I grip the couch.
She’s losing herself to the music, swaying in front of me, the firelight turning her skin to honey, and the robe is slipping from both shoulders now, revealing collarbones, the tops of her breasts.
She spins away again, facing the fire, and the robe slides down her back, baring her shoulder blades, the notches of her spine.
She gathers it at her waist and holds it there, barely, the fabric pooled at the small of her back, and she’s moving to the beat, rolling her hips in slow, devastating circles.
I’m not breathing. My fists are locked on the couch cushions. My cock is in agonizing pain against my pants, and every muscle in my body grows rigid with the effort of staying seated.
She glances over her shoulder, and the smirk she gives me is a declaration of war.
Then she’s facing the fire again, and the robe opens.
I can’t see what she’s doing from behind, but I can hear a small gasp as her hand lowers down her body, a soft moan that cuts through the music and goes through me like a blade.
Her head falls back. Her shoulders arch.
Another moan, longer, rougher, and her hips are moving and she’s touching herself, and I’m going to rip this couch apart with my bare hands.
I’m on my feet instantly, shirt over my head. Pants shoved down, boxers with them, and the relief of the pressure releasing is instant and insufficient because what I need isn’t freedom from fabric. I’ve been craving her.
I cross the space between us, and when I press against her, my cock nestled into her lower back, my mouth at her ear. “Here, let me help you with that,” I murmur.
Her body jolts but melts just as quickly, while my gaze dips down her body, taking in those spectacular full breasts, how tight her dark pink nipples are, how her hand is working the fire between her thighs.
She moans, her head resting against my shoulder, offering herself to me. Fuck yes!
I slide my hand around her hip and down her stomach, find her hand between her thighs, and cover it with mine.
She’s drenched. Silky, scorching, swollen under my fingers, and when I replace her hand with mine and press two fingers against her clit, she shudders so violently her knees buckle.
I catch her with my other arm around her waist, pulling her back against my chest, my cock twitching against her, and I stroke her in tight, slow circles while my mouth drags down the side of her neck.
Her scent hits me at full concentration, and my vision tunnels.
Blueberries and lavender, and underneath it the unmistakable sweetness of an Omega in the early stages of heat.
It’s so potent, so perfectly matched to my own chemistry, that a growl tears from my chest. My hips grind forward, and she gasps and reaches back, her hand finding my cock, coiling around it, slightly squeezing.
“Fuck!” I hiss.
I work my fingers over her swollen clit, loving how she’s melting in my arms. Then I pinch it, and she cries out, her chest arching.
“Call me your god,” I whisper in her ear. “Let me hear it.”
She’s shuddering and I pulse my grip, harder, then softer, and she’s barely standing upright, her breaths speeding.
“Come on, sunshine. Then I’ll reward you with my huge cock, stretching open this tight little pussy.” I squeeze her clit again, dragging the flat of my tongue across the softness of her neck, and she’s suddenly trembling violently in my arms, crying out her orgasm.
“Oh God, Corey. Fuck. You are my god. I can’t believe you made me say that!” She’s shaking so hard that I hold her upright against me, my hips rocking, moving my dick harder against her grip.
I chuckle, loving the sound of her words as I grip her against my body.
Her orgasm is tearing through her like a storm breaking, every tremor rolling from her body into mine, her breath catching in sharp little gasps while she clings to me as if I’m the only thing keeping her from disappearing completely into it.
She’s panting, still pressed against me, heat-drunk and completely wrecked. When she finally turns her face toward mine, there’s a wicked little grin pulling at her mouth. Her eyes are cloudy, all that sweet awkwardness burned down to something darker and desperate.
It’s as though desire finally got its teeth into her and she loved the bite. Now she’s starved for more.
“So, Claire, are you ready to admit that you want me?” I whisper.
“Pretty sure my actions have answered you already.”
“Always nice to hear it,” I insist with a kiss on her shoulder.
She laughs while twisting to face me, releasing my cock and dragging that dripping pussy away from my touch.
The loss nearly breaks what little control I have left.
She curls her fingers around the back of my neck and draws me down until our mouths hover, breaths tangled, both of us shaking from the same reckless hunger.
“I have something to tell you,” she breathes, eyes glassy and wild, “but I can’t remember what it is right now. Fuck, Corey, that felt amazing, but I’m not done. I hope you know that.”
Her words drag something dark and possessive out of me. “Sunshine,” I murmur, my hands tightening on her hips hard enough to remind us both that I’m still holding back. “Then you’d better hold on to me tight.”
Her breath hitches, her body pressing closer against mine.
I lower my mouth to hers, and this time there’s nothing gentle left in me because I’m done pretending I can take my time.